The Comrades of the Bhaalspawn
by Funkmaster21
Summary: In the years following the Bhaalspawn's acsent the godhood, his companions must find their own place in Faerun. Check up on how the loyal companions are doing, and see how they're finding their lives after the legendary quest. Please R&R. UPDATED
1. Introduction to the series

After the Legend: The Companions of the Bhaalspawn

Archon, the legendary Bhaalspawn of Faerun has ascended to the very heavens themselves and the loyal companions and trusted friends must find their own place in the world.

But how will they manage after the quest is complete? Do they go their separate ways? Maybe settle down? Perhaps continue the adventure?

I hope you enjoy my tales depicting the events after the adventure. All set in the complex lives of the individuals who helped the Bhaalspawn reach his goal.

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Author's note: Though individual, the companion stories will form into a larger story involving all the characters taking a single chapter.


	2. Keldorn

The Dragon suddenly lurched forward, snapping its huge jaw just short of Keldorn, who quickly darted backwards. The battle had started quickly and more suddenly than he had anticipated, but he was ready all the same.

His sword drawn, the Paladin considered his next move. Nervously, he looked behind his shoulder for his companions. Faster than a blink, Minsc and Korgan sprinted forward, coming to the learned paladin's aid.

Grinning he joined the charge, following close after his large ranger comrade. Ducking under a large swinging dragon tail, the trio came in close to the underbelly of the beast and hacked at its legs.

"He's a big one, no mistake" Korgan yelled over the sound of the dragon Firkraag's howling, causing Korgan to laugh despite the danger the three friends were in. Minsc said nothing but hit the dragon with tremendous strength. But Minsc hadn't been himself for a long time, Keldorn knew.

Keldorn was glad he was finally battling the tyrant dragon. He and the others had met the dragon over a year ago, while they were working with the Bhaalspawn Archon, who had vowed to the monster that he would someday return to put an end to his reign of terror.

Since his leader and friend had now ascended to the heavens as a god himself, Keldorn had taken it upon himself, with the help of his rabidly aggressive dwarven friend, Keldorn and slightly-insane ranger Minsc to go back to finish what was started. After months of tracking, they had finally found the monster in a large cave nearby where they had first challenged him back in the windspear hills.

Darting to the side, dodging another snapping jaw, Keldorn swiped deftly at the creature's exposed head, scoring a hit but doing no visible damage.

"Fall back" He called to his friends, skipping back a few steps. He had taken it upon himself to lead his 'new' group. The only members left after the departure of their leader. Last he heard Imoen had been practicing her immense sorcery skills in Waterdeep, Jaheria had gone back to her druid roots and wandered Faruen, helping those that needed it.

Since he made the decision to go back and slay the dragon, he was glad the final two members of the group agreed to accompany him. Both for the help and the company on the long road, though he himself was now aging at a more noticeable amount, he had secretly decided that this would be his last mission, that he would finally go back to his wife in Athkatla and leave his adventuring days behind. Where that left Minsc and Korgan, he did not know. Though secretly, he feared that the tolls of the road had caught up with Minsc as well.

Unhesitatingly, the two fighters leapt back, stepping into line with their leader. Keldorn nodded at them both, and all three ran in different directions immediately, each attacking the huge lizard from a different flank, Minsc headed left, Korgan for the right, his twin axes swinging in all directions and Keldorn attacking straight on.

Suddenly, the Dragon twisted his neck, facing Korgan. With a huge roar Keldorn knew that Firkraag the dragon had cast its magic, causing the dwarf to skid to the floor, face down and laying quite still. Keldorn didn't need to look to tell he'd been paralyzed. He prayed it was only temporary terror. Part of the Dragon's innate abilities. Slightly fazed, the old paladin charged in, mixing his attacks high and low, he noticed Minsc had reached its left flank and was also attacking, causing the creature to yelp loudly and angering it more than slightly.

It stomped its huge legs sending a shockwave and nearly knocking the two left-standing fighters. However, both were stronger than most and held their ground.

Though their strikes landed true, Keldorn knew they were not doing the necessary damage to kill it, they needed Korgan's help to hit the Dragon so they could disorient the beast enough to expose its stomach. The only weak, unarmored spot of a full adult red dragon.

Yelling to Minsc to continue the fight, Keldorn rolled to the side, dodging a flying claw and despite his years, exited the roll running head on towards the paralyzed body of his dwarven friend. Keldorn easily noticed the terrified, paralyzed expression on his companions face.

Dropping to one knee, Keldorn called upon his own innate paladin powers, granted to him from his god, Torm to help him cure the paralysis. Gently he touched Korgan on the forehead and noticed the salty dwarf immediately gain his senses.

Grabbing his twin axes, the stocky fighter rose to his feet and continued the attack, heading right, flashing a short grin of thanks to the Paladin, who also continued the attack.

The three fighters relentlessly cut and sliced any exposed spot they could see, frustrating and angering the Dragon.

Keldorn looked up at the looming face and recognized a familiar expression, he knew the monster was leaning back, a sign that he was readying to breathe fire, which would surely kill the trio.

Without hesitating he screamed "Now" and raised his sword, ready for the exposed belly of the beast.

Minsc dropped to one knee and thrust his sword deep into the front leg of his side of the dragon, Korgan did the same with his axes on his own side. The pain in the dragon's legs caused it to jolt back onto its back legs, exposing his huge orange gold colored belly. Keldorn yelled a battle cry as he drove his sword home, impaling the whole blade deep inside the guts and piercing the dragon's heart.

The dragon lurched backwards, throwing his head in the air, breathing fire desperately all around him, though thankfully easily missing the party. Korgan and Minsc jumped to the front, as was planned and each drove their own weapons into the fleshy gut of the giant.

The Dragon roared in defiance and wailed one last time in genuine surprise, then seemed to accept his own demise and collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily and roaring softly.

Keldorn felt no pity for the dragon as it lay dying, its kind had caused enough pain and suffering for centuries and he was glad to have finally ended the monsters reign on the land.

"So ends Firkraag the Tyrant" he muttered almost to himself and the companions nodded in agreement, watching the huge dragon close its eyes forever.

He wiped his sweat drenched forehead with his sword-arm, breathing heavier than he would have liked to admit. Korgan rested his axes on his shoulders and surveyed the damage. "Not bad." He added with a sadistic smirk.

Minsc simply rested on his great sword, also catching his breath. Keldorn noticed he rarely smiled these days.

"You have done well, Minsc." Keldorn said, placing a hand on his comrade's shoulder. "You should be proud of the battle. We have finally rid of the world of one less dragon."

Minsc simply nodded and turned away. Keldorn gripped him by the shoulders and spun him so they were face to face.

"Minsc, I must say, Boo…" He began, noting the large man's eyes drop at the name. "Boo would've been proud."

The past few months had been hard on the huge fighter, his pet, no, his friend, Boo the hamster had sadly died, leaving a huge hole in the man's heart. Respectful of his feelings, the other two friends bought it up on rarely, preferring for time to fix the warrior.

Keldorn remembered first hearing about the man's infactuation with the rodent, he remembered laughing at the absurdity. But now he couldn't imagine being any less than respectful over the ranger's mentor.

Minsc lifted his eyes to meet the aged man's and allowed himself a weak smile. The two were interrupted by the squelching noise of Korgan slicing his axe through the dragon's skull. "Just makin' sure he's dead." He shrugged, standing on the Dragon's shoulders. "Aye. He's dead." He added, looking down at his handy work.

Patting Minsc on the shoulder again, Keldorn strode over to the Dragon and put his hands on his hips. "Now that's done. What treasure did you carry, oh mighty dragon?" He asked the corpse with a grin.

Minsc looked around, "No treasure here." He said, scratching his bald head. Keldorn looked too. Sure enough there wasn't even a coin in the small cavern.

"Unusual for Dragons." He said, puzzled. "They usually horde many treasures, especially during long slumbers, as we caught our Firkraag doing." He nudged the carcass with his foot.

Korgan frowned. "Wait." He said and he laughed. Grabbing his axe again, he started slicing through the soft, yet surprisingly thick stomach of the Dragon.

Catching on, Minsc started forward, hacking deeper into the entrails, disgusting Keldorn, but was watching nonetheless.

"Aha." Called Korgan and leapt back as a horde of treasure spilled out of the stomach. Entrails and all.

Nearly gagging, Keldorn stepped closer, inspecting the treasure for anything useful.

Korgan laughed as he sifted through the gore, producing a few trinkets. "I should've known the evil Dragon would've been one to REALLY hide his store." He chuckled, Minsc simply watched, sheathing his great sword and making a move for the exit and waiting for the others.

Keldorn stood over his eccentric dwarven friend, briefly looking over the treasure. A few coins, a couple of gems. Typical Dragon horde. He sheathed his sword, and headed to the cave entrance to join minsc, and turning to call for Korgan.

"Ah, what's this then?" He heard Korgan shout, and turned to see the dwarf producing a large great sword from the stomach. "Looks like it would suit you nicely, fearless leader." He added, tossing the bloodied sword casually to Keldorn, who rubbed it down with an old rag he used for cleaning swords, he thought he recognized a marking..

He gasped and nearly dropped the two-handed sword when the realization came to him.

"What is it?" Minsc asked, approaching the Paladin. Keldorn looked over the hilt to make sure. Yes he was sure of it.

"If I'm right, this is the sword of Cormyr." Keldorn said, holding the sword up to admire its beauty. It's a legendary sword, thought lost for centuries." He turned back to the dragon. "I wonder how long Firkraag has greedily stored it in his gut."

Korgan waved his hand in dismissal of the great sword, he had no love for legends and myths, especially human legends. He went back to looting the treasure.

Minsc raised his eyebrows at the elderly man. "Such a mighty sword.." He said aloud, noting its fine craftsmanship, no stranger to two-handed swords.

"Yes, it has been passed down to Paladin's and Knights such as myself for generations." He gripped the sword snugly in two hands, and it seemed to glow, feeding the energy to Keldorn. "..So much power." He said, not taking his eyes off the beautiful blade.

"It looks like you've found a new companion, my friend." Minsc replied, and started to the door again, Korgan walked beside him, happy with the loot he had acquired.

Korgan looked back at the Dragon, pleased that the deed had finally been done. He thought of his Bhaal spawn friend, Archon again and chuckled to himself, imagining the new adventures he would surely be having in the heavens, only slightly disappointed he could not experience them with him.

With a smile he shook his head, and left to join his companions, leaving behind the Dragon and holding his new-found sword high, admiring the magic of the sword again. He would get it properly identified in the next town.

"So, where to next, pally?" Korgan asked, tossing his axe and catching it casually and leaning against the cave entrance.

Keldorn thought about telling his friends of his plans to retire for adventuring right there and then, but thought better of it. Besides, who knew what new adventures he could get into with his companions Minsc and Korgan and his new sword.

As he walked from the cave and towards the setting sun with his old friends, he realized he would enjoy finding out. He wasn't too old yet.


	3. Anomen

It was a cold, bitter night when the doors of the Cowardly Pirates inn burst open.

The old tavern was one of the least respected in all of Waterdeep. It had a less than reputable reputation, and was quickly putting the bar out of business, the innkeeper had long abandoned any promise of the establishment and barely looked up when the stranger entered.

Pausing only briefly at the door, and dusting himself from the winter snow outside, Anomen Delryn stepped confidently into the seedy tavern. His face was hidden beneath the cowl of his hood, covering his eyes that now denied any youthful appearance, a sadness wrought of bitter experience.

"We're closin'" the barkeep called firmly, still not looking up from absentmindedly wiping the bar. Anomen appeared not to hear as he continued to stroll assertively through the small, run down place. Indeed, the tavern seemed to be shutting down, with barely any candles still lit.

A few of the regular patrons, friends of the innkeeper, looked up at the strange man, who promptly took a seat directly at the bar at the last seat, furthest from the innkeeper.

"You hear what I said?" The keeper asked, turning to Anomen. "We're closed. Get out of here." He growled.

Anomen merely stared at the near-derelict bar ahead of him and sighed. He scratched his once-trimmed beard idly, which had now become more of a shaggy, graying mess.

His mind wandered as it always did, back to his old adventures. Before his 'traveling' days.

"Get me a drink." Anomen said softly, his weathered face still covered by his long cloak. He remembered the time wore he proudly wore full armor wherever he went, smugly showing his allegiances to his god, Helm. He almost laughed aloud at the image of his previous self, what he would think of him now he wondered.

He had a life of adventure, he reminded himself. But after his long adventure with the Bhaalspawn, his adventuring days waned more and more. He constantly pushed himself in his quests, demanding more and more from himself, craving another adventure like the one he and Keldorn, Jaheria and the others shared.

Without waiting for an answer, Anomen lazily flicked a gold coin at the startled innkeeper. "A drink." He repeated.

The man hesitated for a moment, and then fetched a flagon, filling it to the top for the stranger and placing it in front of him. He clearly wanted no trouble and needed the gold.

"Fine." He said, reluctantly pocketing the coin. "You drink this, and then you're gone."

Anomen chuckled aloud at the comment. He loathed Waterdeep. He hated the corrupted citizens and casual lifestyle.

Taking a swig of the newly poured ale, he realized with solemn conviction that his whole life since his adventures across Amn had been one journey. A journey he'd spent alone, desperately seeking the adventure again. Clinging to it. Sure he had been on some crusades, helped a few villages. Even defeated a few bandits groups. But it wasn't the grand quest he was searching for again.

Looking at his shaggy appearance again, he reminded himself that he hadn't found it. Depressed, he took another guzzle of ale, allowing the frothy liquid to fall on his unkempt beard. He barely recognized himself these days. Oh how he missed the day he carried steel, would do battle with liches and dragons alongside his comrades and friends.

He paused and thought of his old companions, he wondered if they too, had spent their lives after the grand adventure perusing an empty vision. He wondered if any had settled down or maybe found an even greater quest. The only thing he'd heard of in the last few years was that the dragon Firkraag had been defeated, supposedly by Keldorn and a few others, but he wasn't certain. He didn't know about the others, he fell out of contact with everyone.

Losing himself in self pity, Anomen didn't notice the three men rise from their seats across the tavern. They surrounded Anomen, who didn't look up.

"I think I heard Marv here telling you to take off" warned the largest of the three, motioning to the Innkeeper who pretended not to notice.

"Aye, he did." Anomen replied, still sipping from his mug. Surprised at the small reaction to being surrounded, the three men exchanged confused glances.

"What's your story?" One of the men said firmly, placing his hand on the table in front of Anomen. "I ain't seen you here before."

"My story?" Anomen said unfazed, almost to himself as he considered the question. He spoke softly, "My story isn't so uncommon. I've traveled the lands of Faruen, conquered great wizards and defeated demons had terrifying as any you could imagine." He said the words with none of his usual smugness, just empty hollow words from a shell of a man.

Anomen stared at nothing, his mind thinking of past times. "But then, it was over. The quest of the gods was over. Leaving me to find my own way."

He turned and faced the larger man, and removed his hood to reveal his worn, weathered face.

"As you can see, I haven't done so." He said. "Not as much as my previous leader…" He added, remembering where he now resided with a chuckle.

One of the men chuckled, prompting the others into a full bellowing rousing laugh. "You think we want your life-story? You washed up, pathetic man." He laughed.

"Look at you. I doubt you've ever left the comfort of Waterdeep." Another said.

"Fighting Demons? Great quests? Hah! That's a good one!" The third man added, enjoying the laugh and nudging his friends with his elbow.

Finally, the larger man grabbed the ex-squire by the shoulder, and pulled him back. Without missing a beat, Anomen jabbed the ruffian in the throat impossibly fast and dropping the man to the floor gasping for air.

Faster than the other two could react, Anomen spun around, slugging the second man with a right hook, also sending him crashing to the floorboards.

The final ruffian was ready though, and drew a dagger, swiping it awkwardly at the cleric. Anomen leaped back instintively through years of experience. He quickly grabbed his wrist and twisted, forcing the knife away from his hand and causing him to yell in pain and lean back.

Taking the opportunity, Anomen called out for his god, Helm and punched the man dead on in the nose, knocking him out and sending him to join his friends.

Looking at the damage, Anomen frowned and flexed his fist. Pleased that he still had his old fighting abilities, unused for a long while, he turned to regard the Innkeeper, who scampered away into the backrooms.

Anomen turned to leave, but paused. He turned back to the three sprawling men. The two who had received the punches were out cold, but the larger man was still writhing, gasping for breath.

Anomen sat down again and waited for the man to recover, taking a last swig from his now drained flagon.

"You want a story?" Anomen asked the rogue, now near to recovering.

"I'll tell you a story. But I suppose I should start where I came into the tale. The middle." He grinned, relishing telling the legend again, even if it was to a wounded man.

"In the Copper Coronet I was. That's in Athkatla. Resting up from a previous quest."

The man slowly sat up, leaning against the bar, for both fear and perhaps a little interest. He listened intently either way.

Anomen continued with a grin, "When in walks the most remarkable group I've ever known, led by none other by Archon the Bhaalspawn." The patron's eyes widened, obviously recognizing the name and title and prompting Anomen to grin again.

"Let me tell you his story…"


	4. Viconia

"Aieee! A drow!" Was heard.

"Foul demon elf!" Another cry came.

Viconia deVir had heard it all, she sighed and cursed herself again for accidentally allowing her hood to raise a little, showing her dark skin and revealing herself to the people of Trademeet as a drow. Not a good thing considering the evil elf reputation.

Though Viconia hardly considered herself to be the 'good' sort of elf, this constant chasing out of villages, cities or wherever she went was getting rather tiresome.

She broke into a run as the pitchfork-wielding villagers emerged from their homes, carrying torches and illuminating their disgusted faces upon seeing the drow.

It was always the same. The women fearful and the men vengeful.

Viconia ran for a few minutes and finally settled to rest behind a low wall, hoping the villagers would think they chased her off.

"Scum." She whispered quietly to herself as she collected her thoughts. She knew she could take the foolish humans easily. She had fought far worse beings than that. She scoffed at the notion of being overrun by angry villagers, but silently she felt frustrated. Angry at the world.

Since leaving the underdark she had endured many trials and many tests of her patience. She had scarcely found any place she could call her own, the racist prejudice of Amn driving her away from many communities. Except one.

She allowed herself to think of Archon, her warrior. Her abil. The two had shared a rocky, rough 'intimate' relationship. Viconia enjoyed tormenting and teasing the son of a god. She smirked cruelly when she thought of the times she had spent disturbing the frail human.

Hearing angry voices, Viconia stood and stalked away into the night and further from the scene, distancing herself from the small village and staying away from any signs of light.

Since her adventuring group departed, along with it Archon, Viconia had moved from settlement to settlement, hoping to find any place to rest, any home that she could finally hang up her armor for the last time. She considered going back to the underworld, back to the homeplace of the drow, but she quickly regretted the thoughts, remembering the last time she ventured down with Archon, Minsc and the others. They did not leave on good terms and she knew she would be recognized and put to the most agonizing death imaginable. The drow had a way of making that happen.

Shuddering, and not just because of the cold, Viconia flicked to her infravison spectrum and watched the trees and village for any sign of more villagers. Satisfied that they had returned to their homes, Viconia began to lay a bedroll, convinced that they would not be able to see her sleep in the thick trees.

She still wore full armor, a choice which has proved useful many times since heading out on her own. There have been many who have seen the drow and tried to strike a stealthy back-stab. Needless to say, those would-be assassins are now quite dead.

"So you're a drow, eh?" A voice said

Startled, Viconia spun on the spot, turning to face a young man leaning quite casually against a tree, seeming to pay no interest to the cleric.

"Who are you?" Viconia asked firmly, her hand resting on her mace but making no move.

The handsome young man laughed and looked at the drow. "Name's William." He said cockily. "And I live just over there." He nodded over Viconia's shoulder towards Trademeet. "But the real question is." He continued, stepping forward. "Is who are you and what are you doing here?"

Viconia was impressed, she admitted. The young human held an aura of confidence that she liked, not that she would give him any satisfaction of letting him know.

"Hold your tongue, human worm." She said, scowling. "I am here because I choose to. No 'boy' is asking me questions about it either way." She was holding her mace threateningly.

William grinned and held his hands up in mock surrender. "I've never met a drow. Is it true what they say about you?"

"I can tear the skin from your bones in seconds, if that is what you mean, yes." Viconia said venomously.

"Actually" The man continued, stepping forward again, closer to Viconia. "That isn't what I mean."

Catching on, Viconia replied "Speak not to your betters, surface scum. You repulse me."

William drew a sword deftly and pointed it towards Viconia. "Does this please you, dark elf?"

Viconia considered the question. Truthfully, it did please her. She liked the boy's attitude. Drow are often eager to broaden their experience and teach lesser beings what it is to be superior. She adored crushing the souls of younger, eager, stupid men.

"Careful, surfacer" She stepped forward, moving his sword wide with the palm of her hand. "I have been known to kill greater species than you through my rather… obsessive methods"

With that she punched the young man, judging his reaction. Viconia often missed the ways of her homeland, like the customary breaking in of new pleasure slaves.

"The largest and strongest were the hardest to break" She said aloud, enjoying the sight of William's blood. "But they were the most rewarding. You will not enjoy this."

With a swift movement she roughly shoved the waiting man to the floor.

--------

Viconia awoke in a daze. The first thing she realized was she was standing up. She was suspended and tied to a wooden stake. With a groan, she realized what had happened. She had been captured to be executed.

Scowling, she turned to her audience who recoiled in horror. She had played this game before. When she had met Archon a second time, it was when he had saved her from a pyre in the middle of Athkatla's Government district. Looking around now, it didn't look like history would repeat itself. Her crime for both occasions was the simple fact of being a Drow.

She tugged vainly at her binds, then hesitated as she spotted William in the crowd, a merciless grin on his bruised and battered face.

Viconia could only imagine that the human had knocked her out, perhaps the following morning and dragged her back to trademeet for her 'trial'.

By the looks of things it was already over. She shouted curses in Drow tongue, shocking the audience and repulsing the speaker.

Her experience last night was less than satisfactory and she made no attempt to hide her displeasure to the boy, who as she recalled cried during the whole, unacceptable time. He had learnt that Drow were no fools.

She watched as oil was poured onto the pyre, some splashed on her and she cursed back angrily. This, it seemed was the end of her long life. She shrugged. She had no regrets, her only lament was that she should die by surface scum humans.

She thought of Archon, now a deity in the planes of godhood. She chuckled at the irony of her 'lesser abil' now a higher being than all of Faerun.

She heard William laugh and the audience jeer at the drow. "Look upon this foul beast!" They screamed.

Viconia did not hang her head low as they lit the torch and moved towards the pyre to set it alight. She would be as proud in death as she was in life.

The torch's smoke obscured her view, but before it stung her eyes she thought she made out a figure in the background, darting backwards and forwards between the trees near the village.

The torch came closer and her thoughts returned back to her life and of her death. With a realization, she finally and stubbornly admitted that she would miss Archon.


	5. Edwin

"What is it?" Edwin asked, almost yelled to the nervous man who interrupted him.

"Sir, Y-Your carriage is ready." He replied. The servant motioned towards the cart to take his master to Athkatla. Edwin sneered at the small, pitiful man.

"Very well" He said and closed his spell book, replacing the binds and following the driver out the door. Edwin was glad the journey was nearly over. Pausing to dust his blood-red mage robes, he started downstairs to the tavern.

Stopping to pay the innkeeper for his room, he muttered something to himself, catching the old man by surprise and strolled out the front door. He could see the city now, in the far distance. He had hoped whatever the wizards of Thay had asked him to do in this wretched place did not take too long. He had seen enough of the meaningless city.

Climbing into the back of the carriage, he motioned for his servant, whipping boy to start, not even bothering to verbalize the request. In truth, the boy was his apprentice, given to him by his superiors in the wizards order, though Edwin had no intention of teaching the boy any magic he did not want to fall out of favor with the powerful mages. Not again.

His mind wandered back to the last time he had angered the mighty wizards and shuddered. He was pleased now that through his adventuring with that incessant Bhaal brat he was able to curry favor with the council.

Or so he thought. Truth be told he thought very little of Archon and his foolish, pesky 'friends'.

The council had seen fit to send him back to Athkatla, on a mission they said was of 'dire importance' he snorted at the image. Probably some brat mageling needing a few golum's destroyed. He yawned to himself and stared out the window at the rolling hills.

Noticing a small rabbit outside the carriage, the wizard lazily flicked his hand sending a wave of magic missiles towards the animal, instantly killing the creature for no reason other than extreme boredom. He yawned, finding no relief from minor rodents. He absent-mindedly stroked his slowly graying, but still trimmed beard.

After maybe an hour, Edwin knocked on the latch to talk to the driver.

"You. Lackey. How much longer until we get to this pathetic city?" He demanded loudly.

Still not used to his master's constant insults, the apprentice Farrel flinched, "A few hours more, Sir. Shall I steer us to a stable when we get in?"

"No, fool" Edwin hissed back "I will do the business in the city and then we shall leave. I have no interest in staying any longer than I have to"

"Yes Sir, if you.." The boy's words were cut off as Edwin closed the latch, stopping any further conversation. With a wicked grin he leaned back in his chair and rested until they arrived at their destination. He took out his spell book to begin memorizing.

Edwin woke with a start. Angry, he was about to knock on the door to slap his careless apprentice for hitting a bump, but stopped as he realized they were there. He could recognize the Government district anywhere. He had been many, many times while traveling with his inept leader on various adventures.

Farrel had stopped the cart directly outside their contacts house, as per his master's wishes. He hopped out of the driver's seat and opened the door for Edwin, who merely sneered.

"You will stay here." Edwin called as he approached the huge door, leading to the grand building, it was the newly organized mage's guild set up in Athkatla. Edwin guessed they needed some experience in command there.

"But, Master Obessisdon, the council… They have requested that I follow you in this mission." He complained.

Edwin shot only a cold look at the apprentice, who quickly returned to the cart. Rolling his eyes, Edwin turned the doorknob and entered.

"Ah, you must be Edwin." A handsome robed man greeted as the mage walked in. "Welcome. My name is Roland." Edwin met the greeting with a scowl.

"The council of the wizards of Thay have sent me here to help you in an urgent matter." He replied.

The room was surprisingly small, compared to its larger appearance on the outside, Edwin guessed that it had been made that way for appearances. A table stood in the center and it was surrounded by three wizards including Roland, who seemed the youngest of the three, but spoke for the rest of them. Edwin found that odd.

"I would like to get to the matter at hand." Edwin said, not acknowledging the other men in the room. Roland nodded slowly. "Very well. We have been… informed that there is to be a new development in Athkatla. A development that you should be greatly interested in."

Edwin moved to stand at the table.

"Go on." He sneered impatiently.

"We need a Balor. Thay has sent you for your… shall we say, immense magical powers to summon it for us? With the Balor's help we will overrun the rival guilds located in Waukeen's promenade"

He pointed to a map showing the locations of the rival guilds. Not one to be bought by flattery, Edwin was skeptical.

"What of the City Guard?" He asked. Roland paused. "That is why we are going to summon the Balor directly in the center on the Promenade. To strike at the guilds before they can react! We need you to assist us!"

Edwin considered this. He didn't like bringing monsters as chaotic as Balors into the realms. But he certainly didn't want to lose favor with the powerful wizards. Plus he really hated Athkatla, he quickly reminded himself.

Finally he nodded his head in agreement. "And after we and the Balor storm the guilds, I desummon the beast correct?"

"Actually, we'll be assisting you to summon the monster, but then we will return to the guild, so as to not arouse suspicion from the guards. We will need you to keep the Balor under control"

Edwin nodded. Looking at the pathetic monkeys, he believed he would be the only one to control such a demon anyway. The others would get in the way. "When do we begin?"

Roland flashed a perfect smile. "Tonight."

The four mages gathered in the center of the district at midnight. They arrived at their agreed meeting place, between an alley and a few stalls.

"Begin." Roland said, motioning to a circle on the floor to summon the beast, drawn earlier in preparation.

Edwin looked around, the beast would surely kill a few innocents in his rampage. There weren't many in the streets, but Balors were typically erratic. Edwin hoped that he would desummon the beast as quick as possible. He thought not of the pathetic peasants but only of himself, for if there was too much evidence of the Balor, Edwin would surely be caught by the inept guard.

Sighing he opened his spell book and began the spell. It would take a while and he hoped that the other mages would stand watch. He was thankful that the cowled wizards had been disbanded some months ago, or he would never have gotten even this far.

After a few minutes of incantations by the four wizards, Edwin leading the summoning, the beast started to appear, smoke came from its body, and its bat wings struggled to expand.

Edwin felt a little safer knowing the Balor could not leave the summoning circle until the lead summoner willed it to. It was now fully revealed into the world. Edwin cast a silence spell on the demon as soon as it emerged, buying a few minutes until it was noticed.

The huge, red Balor was absolutely enraged. It clawed at the invisible walls of the circle trying to get out and wreck havoc on the population. Edwin backed off again.

"I am ready to instruct the creature to attack the ranger's guild." Edwin said, with more than a little fear in his voice.

The other wizards looked at each other, communicating silently.

"Did you not hear me you fools?!" Edwin screamed, not taking his eyes off the demon, he needed to concentrate solely on keeping the creature imprisoned until the commands were given. If the orders were not given the creature would attack anything that moved. Edwin included. He did not like that prospect.

Struggling even to talk through concentrating so hard, Edwin called again "Blast you! Cast the spells to will the creature!"

It was then that Edwin felt a sharp pain in his back. At first he didn't know what the irritating hurting was, his concentration was so high. It was only when he saw the tip of the dagger sticking out from his chest, and blood running freely down his already blood-red robes, that he knew what had happened. Roland slipped the dagger out of the older wizards chest and moved to face him. He grinned widely, enjoying the sight.

Edwin staggered backwards. "You.." His hand went to his chest in a vain attempt to stem the blood. He looked up at the Balor. The devil-like creature would soon to be free without his careful concentration. "You have doomed us all!" He fell backward. The mages laughed.

"You foolish Thay wizard" Roland said, and his hand went to his robe, pulling from it a medallion that Edwin recognized all too well. The sign of Cyric. The evil mad god of Death and Murder.

"We have used you to fulfill our great lord's bidding. The rivers of Athkatlan will run red with blood, pleasing the god of Death." He cackled insanely, enjoying revealing his own, true desires.

"Fanatical… Foolish… Monkeys" Was all Edwin could say as he struggled for breath. With his death he knew that his magic would dispel and the Balor would be free.

Slowly, Edwin closed his eyes for the last time. He muttered something incoherent to himself.

With a deafening roar the Balor told the city that he was free as the silence spell ended abruptly. The Balor broke free and unhesitatingly attacked the three remaining wizards, killing them brutally. Roland held up his arms and welcomed the embrace.

There would be no mercy from a demon of the abyss.


	6. Jaheria

Jaheria painfully cut her check as she sprinted through the forest at a breakneck speed. Breathing heavily, but skillfully, she twirled around a tree and jumped over a fallen log, losing no momentum.

Nature was as familiar to her as the forest itself and she knew how it worked. She heard an arrow sing through the air just above her head, landing with a thud into a nearby tree.

Without stopping, Jaheria slid under a huge root and rolled into a run, she could hear the voices of her pursuers in the distance calling out to her.

She was satisfied she had completed her quest; she had successfully put an end to the loggers work, destroying the equipment which threatened to destroy all of trademeet's lush forests. This marked the eighth task she had performed for the town as the appointed town druid.

But, as she reminded herself as another arrow skipped across the leaves, narrowly missing her feet, it wasn't over yet.

Still a few miles from the town, Jaheria knew she could not hope to outrun the angry loggers. She would have to hide or fight. Not such an impossible task for a druid as skilled as her. Her attackers would not stop until they had her, their whole logging operation had been destroyed stealthily by her cunning attacks, costing them dearly.

In full sprint, Jaheria removed her staff from its holstered position on her back and in one deft, swift movement, suddenly bought it to the floor and jumped. Using her momentum and the leverage from the staff, Jaheria vaulted up high and grabbed a branch from a giant oak.

Spinning once, and then throwing herself higher still, Jaheria landed with great dexterity on a higher branch. There she waited and hoped that the rogue loggers had not seen her climb the tree. She looked down the several meters and waited for them to walk into her path.

She was breathing heavily and tried to steady herself on the relatively thin branch. She heard voices approaching her position. She held her breath in anticipation.

"Did you see where she went?" One asked, gruffly

"No idea here. Murry?"

"Nope."

Jaheria couldn't see them yet, but judging from their noises, she guessed they would be under her in a moment. She searched her experienced mind for a spell that would assist her, as she would prefer to get away clean without a fight.

Quietly and quickly she muttered a small chant under her breath and her skin became like that of a tree instantly, blending her into the tree perfectly.

Satisfied that the barkskin would create a convincing camouflage, Jaheria relaxed and took in her surroundings. She noticed a squirrel looking quite confused at the scene presented to it. Despite the danger, Jaheria could not help but laugh at the small rodent's expression. It reminded her of her old traveling partner, Minsc's pet hamster. She wondered how the ranger was these days.

She patted the squirrel gently, always appreciating nature when it found her.

The confused voices below her were getting louder, and suddenly four men came into view, armed fully with swords, bows and spears. Jaheria looked down at the open plain, quite still.

One of the men looked up, seemingly directly at her but Jaheria, confident that her spell would hold true, did not react.

With a shrug, the man turned to the rest of his party.

"No sign of her, Boss." He said, putting away his sword. The larger rogue he was talking to did not seem convinced, however. "Search for her tracks. She can't have gotten far." He directed to the rest

The three other men nodded and complied, each scouting around the area just under Jaheria, still within her sight.

Jaheria suddenly realized that the men would not give up their hunt. She could see no way around it.

"This is dumb, Lemar" said the man who was called Murry. "Just find her, idiot." Lemar replied as he poked through the leaves looking for any sign of any tracks.

"She's long gone." Murry said with a resigned shrug as he kicked through a pile himself. "What do you think we do now, with the logging equipment gone?" He asked. When no reply came, he continued, "Think we should head back to Athkatla? Maybe Neverwinter?"

After hearing no reply, he span back in frustration to his fellow logger. "Lemar?" He called, upon seeing his friend perfectly still. He'd seen this before. Lemar was held by magic.

He barely had time to draw his sword before he felt his legs being tugged and grabbed by roots appearing from the ground. He hacked vainly at the green vines as it crept up his body.

Jaheria grinned at the sight below her. The three remaining men were being held fast by her entangle spell and she found herself enjoying the sight of nature fighting back.

Sensing her barkskin had worn off and seeing that the four loggers were almost completely covered by the tangled vines, Jaheria leaped down the tree, landing with a thud to the floor and revealing herself to the startled men.

She walked among them as they struggled with their vines, like an officer inspecting her troops. She stopped at the man she had previously immobilized with a hold spell. With a light prod, she toppled him to the floor. He stayed rigid in place as he fell to the floor like a statue. She smirked maliciously.

The others were now gagged with their binding roots. They were trying to speak, though truthfully, Jaheria didn't care what they had to say.

She walked to the one the others had identified as their leader.

"I am the druid of this place." She said proudly as she waved her staff threateningly in the frightened rogue's face. "While I am here, no harm will come of this place."

She walked around the clearing, addressing everyone present.

"As shown today, nature will always prevail against the arrogance of bitter, small fools like you." She continued.

"If you, or any of your nature-destroying kin ever return to this forest. My forest. You will be cut down." The druid stopped at one of the men and hit him hard in the gut with the point of her staff. His muffled cries were barely heard.

"Am I understood?" She demanded.

The three men nodded quickly in unison. Satisfied with the answer and aware that her enchantment would dispel soon, she darted off into the woods, leaving the men to their natural prisons.

As she neared her resident city, Jaheria slowed to a brisk walk. Her first stop would be to the town mayor to inform him that she had completed the task he had set for her, and then she would head back to her secluded druid shack on the outskirts of the forest where she lived alone.

She considered that for a moment. She had always told herself that she was happy she was alone, that she could now live her life to protect nature as she had always intended. The thought led her to Khalid, her late husband, killed at the hands of the evil mage, Irenicus. Jaheria rarely wept for her old love, for she was a strong woman and knew that her grief would bring nothing.

She thought less and less of Archon and her old companions each day. The memories of the adventures they shared were disappearing from her mind, but she handled it as she always did, with a shrug and a look to the future.

Jaheria trudged softly towards the city, now in full view. She could see the gate ahead and she was looking forward to heading to the tavern to rest before heading back.

Suddenly she heard commotion. She heard the cries of townspeople. They shouted hateful words.

Instinctively, the druid crouched, fearing another attack on the usually peaceful town. She ran further to the edge of the tree line in an attempt to see more of the situation.

Then she saw a sight that disgusted her. Citizens gathered around a pyre at the town center, a woman that she could not see clearly was tied to the stake. An execution.

Hatred and disappointment of her people filled her and Jaheria ran forward towards the brutal scene as the spokesman put a torch to the dry wood, filling the area with smoke.

Just before the smoke covered the woman's face, Jaheria saw her and nearly stopped her run, stunned at the recognition.

It was Viconia, a Drow who Jaheria used to travel with. This was not the first time Jaheria had saved her from certain death, and although the spiteful dark-elf probably deserved death, Jaheria could not allow this kind of punishment to anyone, let alone an old companion.

"Stop!" She called out, striding forward into the scene and pushing through the crowd. "End this madness!" She called to the executioner, who looked surprised.

Jaheria trusted that she had enough favour with the town that she could hope to stop the murder. She climbed up to the platform and began kicking at the pyre to stop the fire. She heard weak coughing from the smoke.

"Druid Jaheria!" The spokesperson grabbed at Jaheria, who did not falter. "This woman is Drow. An evil dark elf!"

"I know very much who she is, Parks." Jaheria replied, still putting out the fire with her hands and feet. "And I know her heritage and the ways of her people. But this woman deserves not a bitter execution."

The smoldering logs were put out of the fire, and Viconia rolled her head, dazed by the smoke. Jaheria began untying her.

"Jaheria, I cannot allow you to set this filth Drow free." Jaheria spun at the familiar voice, the voice of the mayor.

"Mayor, you cannot be serious! You would allow the murder of this woman because of the color of her skin?" Jaheria asked, stunned at the usually compassionate man.

"Allow? My lady druid, I ordered it." He added with a sneer at Viconia, now regaining consciousness. "I cannot allow such animals to walk through my city."

Jaheria paused, stunned by his words for a moment but then worked again at the binds to untie her old companion. Guards moved to stop her, but the mayor held up a hand to stop them.

"Jaheria, you have saved my town many times against evil. As such, if you allow this Drow to go free I will not stop you." He said loudly, obviously inviting the crowd to the conversation. Jaheria seemed not to notice as she continued to untie Viconia.

"But, you will be exiled from this place. Never to return." He added. Cheers came from the crowd. The citizens Jaheria once called friends and allies. With disbelief she turned to her old herd, then back to the mayor. "I have made my choice." She said with a scowl, and freed Viconia.

Truthfully, it was no choice. Jaheria would never allow such a brutal execution to occur. The half-elf knew that she and Viconia had not always seen eye to eye, even fighting on more than one occasion, but they had been through many adventures together, and she owed her.

With a disdainful look at the townsfolk, she scooped up Viconia and held her as she steadied her feet. The two women walked out of Trademeet with not a word. Not to the confused townfolk, not to each other.

Jaheria wanted only to leave the wretched city. She wondered where she would go next. Where was her home? Suddenly she realized. She would return to the harpers. With Viconia, she would return to Athkatla.


End file.
